


Fire And Water

by ProneToRelapse



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternative Universe - Merpeople, M/M, Merman!Ignis, No war with Niflheim, fairytales - Freeform, ya’ll know the rating is probably gonna go up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 19:39:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13083969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProneToRelapse/pseuds/ProneToRelapse
Summary: “Hello, Noctis,” says the creature, voice soft like the bubble of a creek, but ringing like glass. “Prince of Lucis.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> sooooo... hi? i’ve been wanting to write something for this pair for like a year. who knew episode Ignis would give me the kick up the ass I needed??
> 
> but yeah, enjoy.

The edge of the surf curls and foams as the gentle waves brush the shore; salty kisses in the lilac-tinged evening. Noctis watches intently the way the colours shift and the stones darken with each pass of water, reaching higher and higher as the moon rises in the sky. It’s not the grand ocean he was expecting, but the reservoir is still a sight to behold with its towering cliffs and grand islands suspended above. The air is tinged with something sweet, a cloying taste that lingers on his tongue along with the fresh scent of sylleblossoms, and it prickles along the patches of bare skin on his arms that aren’t covered by bandages.

He’d like to try fishing here, when he’s better. Tenebraen fish are a delicacy he’s come to appreciate since arriving here with his father almost a month past. The memory of the marilith is still bright and jarring in his mind, but something about the tang of magic in the air here keeps the nightmares at bay.

He’ll be sad to leave. When the time comes.

He considers rolling his wheelchair a little closer to the reservoir’s shore, but the sand is too deep for him to move through without aggravating his injury, and the Lady Sylva will be a frightening encounter if she finds he’s undone the many weeks’ worth of her careful healing.

So he sits where he is, not wanting to bother the two guards stationed several feet away for his safety just to dip his toes in the water. Perhaps he’ll ask Luna to accompany him tomorrow. He knows she’ll say yes, and she’s the best thing about Tenebrae.

The moon rises higher, and the gentle waves creep enticingly closer, causing Noctis to shiver despite the warm air. Tenebraen nights are something wholly different to nights in Insomnia. There’s something otherworldly here. As if Noctis has fallen into one of the sprawling, high fantasy novels Gladio is secretly so fond of, with dragons and dwarves and unsettlingly elegant elves.

…Yes, alright, Noctis likes them, too.

And just like one of Gladio’s novels, something unseen breaks the surface of the water.

Noctis blinks. He could have sworn…

No, there’s nothing there. Only ripples and the reflection of stars.

Noctis swallows down the faint creep of nerves rising in his throat. He’s safe enough here. The guard are only a shout away. He shakes his head to clear it. It’s the air, he reasons. It’s got him imagining things. Maybe there’s still a hint of the marilith’s poison in his blood making him see things. Lady Sylva said it would take a while to leave his body entirely.

But, no— There it is again! Something pale, almost translucently so, skims just beneath the water’s surface, just after the dip in the shore where the water deepens. Instinctively, Noctis leans forward, curiosity winning the battle with fear.

Slowly, the thing breaks the waterline, and two impossibly green eyes meet his own, moonlight glinting off of dappled scales sweeping up from temple and brow. Breath held, Noctis watches, enraptured, as the pale creature rises, head first then stopping at the graceful slope of shoulders, out of the water. He chances a furtive glance toward his guards, turning stiffly to avoid aggravating his back. They’re watching a video on one of their phones, none the wiser to the creature staring intently at the young prince.

When Noctis looks back, the creature is suddenly alarmingly close, scaled forearms braced on the shore like it’s reclining, head tilted to one side as it surveys the young Lucian. Stifling a yelp, Noctis’ hands fly to the wheels of his chair, gripping tightly in preparation to force the thing backwards should the need arise.

It doesn’t. The creature only watches, curiosity plain on its alien features. But not so alien, Noctis thinks, because it’s the face of a young boy gazing up at him. The face is pretty, almost feminine in the full curve of its lips, and the green scales that frame its eyes and temples like jewels. On its arms spines fan out, connected by the thinnest membrane webbed with tiny veins.

Noctis is enraptured.

“H-hello.” He forces the word out on a breath barely louder than the breeze. The creature’s ears twitch in response, pointed at the tips instead of rounded. Noctis waits for a moment for some sort of reply. When none is forthcoming, he tries again. “I’m Noctis.” And because it may mean something, “Prince of Lucis.”

“Hello, Noctis,” says the creature, voice soft like the bubble of a creek, but ringing like glass. “Prince of Lucis.”

Noctis cannot help his wide grin, full of childish glee. This. This is magical. His fear is forgotten, replaced only with wild curiosity.

“What _are_ you?” he asks, keeping his voice hushed so not to attract the guards’ attention. “Are you a… Are you a daemon?”

The creature inclines its head lazily. “Do I look like one?”

Noctis shakes his head, images of the marilith stabbing into his mind. “No.”

“Then it would be safe to assume I am not.”

“Then what are you?” Noctis presses. “I’ve never seen anything like you before.”

“Then you have not seen many things,” the creature says. “The world is full of things like me.”

Noctis can hardly breath from excitement. “Are there more of you?”

“Possibly. The world is full of things like me.” Noctis thinks he hears a playful lilt in the words.

The creature’s eyes drift down to Noctis’ wheelchair. “What is that?”

Noctis, realising his fingers are numb and white from gripping the wheelframes, slowly loosens his grip. “It’s my wheelchair. I can’t walk at the moment.”

“Then what is the use of having legs?”

Noctis looks down at them, stretching them out in front of him. The creature really is very close. Close enough to reach out and snatch Noctis by the ankle if it so wished. “I can walk. Just not now. I got hurt.”

“How?”

“I got attacked.”

“By what?”

“A daemon.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

The creature has as many questions as Noctis, it seems, and doesn’t seem to care if its words offend him. Noctis doesn’t mind. It’s nice not to be treated like he’s something fragile for once.

“Do you have a name?” Noctis asks.

The creature nods. “I have many. I—“

“Highness!”

Noctis startles and looks towards the guards that are approaching. When he looks back to the water, the creature is gone. Disappointment settles like a stone in his stomach, and when the guards reach him, his sullen countenance is back in place.

“His Majesty desires you back at Fenestala.” One of the guards takes hold of the wheelchair’s handles and turns Noctis back towards the house. “It’s late.”

Noctis says nothing, just watches the water as long as he can until his back protests and he has to turn away. In the distance, he catches a glimpse of peridot green scales disappearing into the depths.

 

 

Though Noctis is unable to return to the reservoir for a while, the Lady Sylva is pleased with his process, and not more than a week later he is allowed to leave his wheelchair for a pair of crutches. His father is pleased and does not scold him when he catches Luna and Noctis having a pretend duel each armed with one crutch. Mood buoyed, Noctis accompanies Luna on a short walk thought a field of sylleblossoms, happy to finally be able to move on his own again.

Lady Sylva advises the King that Noct should be fully recovered in a few more weeks, and that they’ll be able to return to Insomnia shortly. Noctis feels a little sad at that, but Luna promises she’ll write, and she’ll visit for his birthday in a few months’ time. Ravus, always a few steps behind his little sister, grumbles and says he doesn’t want to go to Insomnia, to which Noctis tells him it’s fine and he’s _not invited_ anyway. Luna hides a smile behind her hand.

Once he’s used to the crutches, Noctis pleads with his father to let him go back down to the reservoir again. He goes so far as to say being there helps the nightmares, makes him feel peaceful, and he feels a little guilty for the way his father’s expression briefly crumples in pain. The guilt is quickly alleviated when Regis agrees and allows him to go the following evening. Accompanied by guards, of course.

Noctis is so excited he doesn’t care.

 

 

 

Noctis waits and waits, sitting at the water’s edge with his towel folded beside him, bare legs outstretched so the water can run over them, crystal cool in the warm night air. He’s not afraid. Why would he be? Tenebrae is safe, and the creature didn’t look much older than Noctis. If strange, maybe-sea-daemons aged the same way humans did.

Once the guards are distracted by their own conversation, Noctis shuffles closer to the water, until the lapping waves reach his waist. He doesn’t mind the damp. It’s refreshing, if anything.

The creature finally makes itself known. Noctis sees its eyes first, glinting under the surface as it slices its way through the water towards him. It slows and stays submerged for a few moments before it raises its head out of the water. Noctis thrills with excitement.

“Hello,” Noctis says, waving.

“Hello, Noctis, prince of Lucis.” The creature inches closer. “You have not got your _wheelchair_.“ Its voice stumbles a little over the unfamiliar word. “Are you able to walk now?”

Noctis gestures to the crutches laid off to one side. “A little. I still have to use crutches to lean on, but I don’t mind.”

The creature eyes his legs doubtfully for a moment before looking up at him with a small smile. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll pull you in?”

“Will you?” Noctis asks, a low shiver of anxiety rippling through his chest.

The creature only smiles, and its teeth are jagged and pearlescent in the dark. “I don’t need to hunt tonight,” is all it says. Noctis does not press further.

They watch each other in silence for a long while, both equally as curious in the other foreign creature before them. Noctis marvels at the paleness of the creature’s skin, the fine web of membrane between the spines on its arms and back, and the—

“You have a _tail_!” Noctis exclaims, delighted.

In response, the creature raises the appendage out of the water. It shines in the moonlight, pale grey scales flecked with emerald green, down to the palest peridot fins that flair at he tip. The creature preens a little at Noctis’ interest.

“Are you an Astral?” Noctis asks quickly. That would make the most sense. As heir to the line of Lucis, he has affinity with them. Like little Carbuncle who roams his dreams to help soothe the nightmares, maybe this creature is also one of the divine beings.

The creature shakes its head. “I am not divine,” it says softly. “I am not daemon nor Astral. I simply am.”

Noctis doesn’t quite understand what that means, but he’s far too interested in the creature’s scales tail to pay much attention.

“Will you be my friend?” Noctis finally asks. The question has been hanging in his throat for an age, waiting for enough courage to force it past his lips.

The creature frowns in confusion. “What is that? ‘ _Friend_ ’?”

Noctis quails a little, shuffling anxiously. “Friends are… They’re _friends_. Kids who play together. Do fun stuff, hang out… Play together.”

The creature seems to consider this deeply, eyes fixed intently on the young prince. “I’ve never had a friend.”

“Then I’ll be your friend,” Noctis declares confidently.

The creature lets out a low sound that rings in Noctis’ ears. It’s a soft but surprisingly deep sort of hum that rings of satisfaction, harmonious and pleasant. The water ripples between them with the vibration of it.

And then the creature’s tail flicks up, splayed fins sending a great plume of water splashing into Noctis’ face. The prince gasps and splutters, wiping his hands frantically over his face.

“What was that for?!” he demands, pushing sodden hair out of his face.

The creature has moved back deeper into the shoals, pointed teeth bared in a gleefully feral grin. “You wanted to play?”

And Noctis _beams_.

Scooping up water in his palms, he splashes it toward the creature, who ducks and dives, splashing back and letting out that deep hum again, accompanied by a soft chitter that seems to be a sort of laughter. Noctis returns the laugh happily as the creature tosses seaweed at him. It sticks to his skin unpleasantly, but it’s the hardest he’s laughed in months.

Until he twists to reach for his towel, and the sharp stab of pain and flare of fire down his back makes his hands hook into claws and tears a pained whimper from his mouth. With a hiss, he falls to his side, curling up into a tight ball until the flare of pain, bright, throbbing, scarlet-tinged, slowly starts to ease.

Noctis blinks slowly, eyes clouded from how tight he clenched them shut, and panting from the exertion, body and mind recoiling from the memory of pain whilst adrenaline makes him shiver. As the world swims back into focus, he can see the shimmering pale outline of the creature, leaning right up on the water’s edge, jewelled eyes bright with concern and fear.

“Are you injured?” It asks softly, reaching out a hand. The fingertips are clawed points with no discernible nails, and thin webs of the same membrane on his arm spines link the slim fingers together. Noctis focuses on the tiny details, anything to force down the fear and panic that’s clouding his mind in the wake of the painful attack from his I jury.

“I’m… I’m okay,” Noctis forces out, voice hoarse. “It happens… I’m getting better.”

The creature seems displeased by his weak assurances, leaning further over the shore until its hand hovers inches above Noctis’ wrist.

“Come into the water,” the creature murmurs, casting a furtive glance towards Noctis’ guards. The incident has not alerted them, covered as they are by the sound of waves and wind.

“I can’t…” Noctis whispers, tears prickling begins his eyes. “I’m not strong enough to swim yet…”

The creature finally touches him, curling those long fingers around his wrist delicately. It feels like mist on his skin. “I’ll not let you come to harm, little Prince of Lucis,” it says, and something in its voice changes. Beneath the words lays a softness Noctis has never heard. Such care and devotion; deep affection that intensified the prickle of tears until they run unhindered down Noctis’ cheeks.

His limbs feel so heavy. But slowly, he uncurls.

“Come into the water, dear Noctis,” croons the creature, and it sounds like the sweetest music. “I shall protect thee.”

Noctis wants to go. He wants to follow so badly. The hand around his wrist tugs oh so gently, guiding him to sit up, “slowly now, slowly, that’s it,” and move carefully towards the water.

Waves lap gently at his legs, and a second pale hand joins the first on his other wrist as the creature smiles encouragingly, beautiful and frighteningly enthralling.

The pain, Noctis slowly realised, mind clouded and sluggish and ringing with that deep pleasant hum, has gone. He smiles dreamily and lets himself be pulled into the reservoir.

“ _Highness_!”

A bellowing cry and a blinding flash of blue and two arms wrap themselves like steel bands around Noctis’ chest, wrenching him out of the water and the creature’s mist-light grip with bruising force. Winded and weak, Noctis cannot struggle, and his mouth feels both loose and full at the same time, as if his tongue is made of lead, and his jaw detached. He cannot speak, cannot move, only watch dazedly as he is hauled away from the shore and a guard draws his sword, bringing it down in a vicious arc towards the water. There’s a thunderous splash and a shrill, ear-splitting shriek of pain and all Noctis can see is the dappled moonlit reflection on the surface of the disturbed water, slowly clouding black with blood.

“Alert his Majesty at once! The Lady Sylva, too. The Prince may be injured.”

 _I’m not_ , Noctis thinks sluggishly, head lolling as the guard scoops him up into his arms with an arm behind his knees. _My back... My back doesn’t hurt anymore._

_It doesn’t..._

_My back doesn’t hurt anymore..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dang, ya'll work fast. the response to this has been lovely, so here's the second chapter all ready for you guys!
> 
> (this fandom is so lovely to write for, i love you all.)
> 
> (...this is probably gonna be longer than 4 chapters, hoo boy.)

Ignis emphatically does  _not_ like the humans of Lucis. Loud, brash, untidy things that they are, stomping around on land, tossing things into water that they no longer want or need. He doesn’t mind that so much; he has a nice little collection of oddities and trinkets collected from seabeds and the odd river bank. What he  _does_  mind, is how quick they are to attack whenever they catch a glimpse of him.  

Back in Accordo, Ignis had a wonderful experience of humans. They seemed intrigued by him, fascinated by his scales. Quite rightly so. Even among his own kind, Ignis is considered beautiful. His spines are long and sharp, and his scales glitter attractively. It’s no surprising that a few of the humans have found him so alluring.  

It makes hunting much easier.  

Below the canals and walkways of Altissia, Ignis has a humble little home. A home he always intended to transform into a nest when he found his mate. But few of his kind remain in his small corner of Eos. That, among other things, is what prompts him to leave Altissia for new waters.  

He’s always been inquisitive, as the Tidemother has always affectionately chided him for it. She rests along the seabed below the altar, and when he was newly hatched, Ignis believed her to be so long she must curl around the entire planet. Older now, he’s brave enough to swim the length of her, and she always swats him playfully with the tip of her tail whenever he gets too close.  

It’s with her blessing that he leaves Altissia behind. She tells him go;  _go explore the world of men, find new waters and rejoin your brothers. Find your mate and be happy._  He doesn’t really want to leave her, he imagines she’ll get lonely, but she assures him she has no concept of loneliness, but she will miss him, so please may he visit and bring his mate with him when he has chosen.  

And so Ignis leaves his home and familiar hunting grounds, his humble little nest, to explore the world.  

 

 

 

 

As it is, ‘the world’ is subjective. Water only takes him so far, and the changes in the submerged environments make his gills sting and ache until he can acclimatise. Still, everything is new and different and he enjoys it immensely, slicing through the waters like an arrow loosed from a bow. Twice he chances breaking the surface in a flash of grey and green, spiralling out of the water in a flurry of waves and diving back in after an elegant arch.  

There is so much to explore out here! So much to see and discover, he doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of it.  

But how like humans to ruin it all.  

 

 

 

 

Ignis sulks. He sulks deeply and petulantly and nurses the grudge like he would a clutch of his own eggs.  

He had made a  _friend._ A notion so new and thrilling that he marvels at the wonder of it. The tiny prince with sparkling blue eyes and a rich kindness that ran so deep he  _glowed_ with it, even under the shadow of daemon poison that hummed faintly in his blood.  

Ignis had come across him quite by accident, searching for something better to hunt than just the fish he’d encountered on his travels. The fish here were certainly richer than he was used to, but he missed the thrill of singing humans into the water, guiding them down under the surface to him. He missed the richness of their blood, the heat of their flesh. And so he swam closer to the shoreline in the hope of finding the ideal prey.  

He definitely hadn’t expected to encounter a child sitting despondently on his metal perch, gazing out at the water with such an intense ache in his eyes.  

All thoughts of hunting pushed out of his mind by curiosity, Ignis swam closer.  

The boy is just as curious as Ignis, and there is no fear in his eyes. Ignis wonders at the boy’s condition, the thrum of poison in his veins, and makes a decision.  

Whatever magic there is in this place, it’s not enough to help the boy. Ignis sees it with his own eyes, sees the boy convulse in pain from the injury in his back. Something hot and wild surges through Ignis’ blood, and he knows he has to help this child. He’s borne of the Tidemother, after all. As much as she is distasteful of most mankind, even she would not see a youngling in so much pain.  

Using all his charm in the magic of his voice, Ignis coaxes the little prince into the water where the Tidemother’s blessing will be able to reach him. The moment the prince is in his arms, Ignis can feel the poison seeping out of him, banished by the Tidemother.  

And then steel, sharp and burning whit-hot, splits Ignis from shoulder to hip like an overripe berry, blood welling from his body like a fountain as he shrieks in agony. The prince is torn from his arms and in the chaos, Ignis can only scramble from the shore and dive as deep as he can, blood oozing from his body and mixing black in the water. He hisses and shudders, tail writhing furiously as he curls in on himself, mind reeling from the pain.  

_Humans_ , he thinks through the haze of pain,  _ruin everything._  

 

 

 

Ignis returns twice to the shore once his side has healed. There is no sign of the prince, but metal-covered humans now patrol the shore, armed with swords and long black weapons Ignis has never seen before, but make a terrible, thunderous explosion of sound when used. Ignis never lets himself be seen when he watches them, but he hates every single one that stands between him and the young prince he had tried to heal.  

Once, mainly fuelled by spite and petty revenge, Ignis steals one of the armed humans, singing him into the water and ripping into his body with more force than necessary, tearing great strips of flesh away before the water has filled his lungs to kill him gently. Even that does not quell his fury, so he throws a bloodied, half-eaten arm back onto the shore. He delights in the horrified cries of the humans that find it.  

Bored now with this place and the humans that have come to guard it, Ignis mourns the loss of his new friend, and deigns to return to the Tidemother. She will pity his injuries and likely heal her himself as Ignis has done a terrible job of it. If he’s not quick, he’ll be left with the angry rope of scar tissue marring his side for the rest of his life.  

But of course.  _Humans._  

They catch him at the edge of the reservoir, and Ignis lets out a shrill cry of panic as wire and twine close him in, tighter and tighter, hauling him towards the surface of the water, cutting into him as he fights to dive deeper, to escape somehow— 

_Tidemother_ _!_  

He cries for her with everything in him, all the magic in his blood, reaching out wild and frightened.  

_I come_ , is the deep, echoing reply.  

Ignis thrashes and cries, hissing and spitting and tearing at the net. It holds fast and binds him all the tighter. His heart skitters and thuds, fear choking him. He cannot move, cannot think— 

His netted cage breaches the surface and air stings his gills like icy fire. In the distance, but so deep he can feel it vibrating in his chest, the Tidemother  _roars._  

Ignis’ world falls dark.  

**Author's Note:**

> I’m on tumblr and always ready to cry about ignoct


End file.
